Weight
by blinkblink
Summary: In which Ginji sits in a hole contemplating his dependence on Ban-chan.


Disclaimer: I don't own Get Backers, or the characters. I do own the hole. You will have to fight me for it! Death match! Bam!

OMG, a story in which Ban does not hate himself. Now we have Ginji for that. I'm going to crawl into this corner over here and die now. x.x

Notes: Minor spoiler reference to Ban's coughproblemscough with his mother which I don't actually know much about it, so I fudged the details a bit.

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Weight

Ginji was waiting. It was pretty boring, waiting, and if his tailbone hadn't hurt so much, he would have probably gone to sleep. He had landed hard on it when he fell into the hole he was in. Ban-chan would be mad, when he found him. It was, of course, Ban-chan that he was waiting for.

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If you get lost, stay where you are, and I'll come find you, Ban-chan had said, a long time ago. That had been back when they had first become partners, when they had only just formed the Get Backers, when Ginji was fresh out of _Mugenjou_. So fresh that he could still smell it in his clothes, on his skin, the slightly stale scent of that dark place. It smelled of moulding wetness, and to this day when he stepped into a leaking basement his first thought was always of the dim alleyways of Raitei's kingdom. But back then, Ginji had not been as he was now. He had still been adjusting, learning to wear the mask of confidence, and he frequently stumbled.

It didn't help that he had absolutely no sense of direction. Even familiar places sometimes confused Ginji. He was pretty sure that it was the electricity in him, that it had long ago fried his internal GPS. Back then, when he was still living completely in the shadow of _Mugenjou_, Raitei's whispers in his ear were strong. Only Ban-chan could silence them, and when they were separated for more than even half an hour the whispers came back, then the shouting, and then the screaming.

Ginji shook his head harshly. Thinking of the screaming was bad. It still made him shake now, when the whispers hardly ever came at all. Back then, nothing in the world had scared him more than them. And Ban-chan knew it. He had promised that he wouldn't leave, that he would stay, and as long as Ban-chan was there the whispers couldn't be. Slowly, so slowly that Ginji didn't notice it happening, his fear of the whispers transformed into dependence on Ban-chan. His greatest fear shifted from the whispers to fear that one day he would get lost, and Ban-chan wouldn't find him. Or, more accurately, that he wouldn't come looking.

One day, on a mission, Ginji got lost in Shinjuku's back alleys. It was already late afternoon and the sun was setting somewhere behind the skyscrapers. Ginji had been sitting on a box for more than an hour, fretting, when he had a realization. He wasn't worried that the whispers would come. He was worried that Ban-chan wouldn't. Of course in the end he did, only a few minutes later, and everything had been okay. But still even Ginji, who trusted almost everyone, realized how dangerous it was to place everything in the hands of another. To trust that Ban-chan wouldn't just up and disappear one day, tired with the Get Backers, and leave Ginji behind in pieces.

He had worried about it for days, growing more and more distant as Ban-chan grew more and more concerned. And then one day he had woken up, lying in the cheapest bed of the cheapest room in some sleazy hotel. He had looked over at Ban-chan, who was sleeping next to him because it was cheaper to have just one bed, and knew that he would have to make a new kind of trust. One that wasn't just the certainty that his money, or his food, or his life was safe with Ban-chan, but one that _he_ was, and that Ban-chan would be there to catch him when he fell, always.

He knew that Ban-chan didn't understand that trust. He returned it a little, in a smaller, harder, sharper way, but he didn't understand it. It made Ginji sad, not because he knew that Ban-chan couldn't return his trust in the same way, but because he understood why. He knew that someone who had watched his mother fighting madly against her restraints, begging to be allowed to kill the monster that was her son, could never trust wholly again. He knew that Ban-chan would never understand that if Ginji didn't trust as he did he would shatter. To Ban-chan, there was no way that trust could ever be a form of self-protection. To Ginji, it was the only way.

After he had forged his new trust he kept it hidden, kept it secret. He didn't want Ban-chan to know how much he depended on him, to burden him with his reliance. Ban-chan worried enough without knowing he was the thin golden cord holding Ginji's world together. Knowing that he was Raitei's collar was a more than sufficient burden.

Ginji was brought out of these thoughts by the knowledge that, if Ban-chan knew he was thinking them he would noogie him until he couldn't possibly keep them up anymore. Because Ban-chan didn't understand his kind of trust, but he understood over-reflection more than anything. It was something both Get Backers shied away from, and something which caused them to wake up at two in the morning with forgotten tears running down their cheeks.

Sometimes, when he woke screaming from a nightmare and Ban-chan was there to rub his back and tell him to go back to sleep, Ginji thought that it wasn't fair of him to rely on Ban-chan so much. Ban-chan carried all his burdens on his own, and instead of helping him, Ginji just heaped on some more. When he was properly awake in the day, Ginji knew that his baggage wasn't that heavy, and that Ban-chan was strong– 200 kilogram grip! But, in the late hours of the night and the early hours of the morning when the world was dark and the air smelled vaguely of mildew, Ginji knew that no one should have to carry so much on his own.

Down in the hole, it smelled of dirt. Ginji knew it was his fault for falling in– he hadn't been watching where he was going– and the sides were too steep for him to climb, too tall for him to jump. Right now, Ban-chan was probably looking for him. He had doubtless found the Transporter and gotten back the necklace they had been hired to retrieve. And when Ban-chan found him he would scold him, but then he would haul him out of this hole, just like he always did, while Ginji hung off him; dangled like a lead weight around Ban-chan's neck.

Ginji pulled his knees up to his chest, rested his chin on them and closed his eyes. He could hear someone wandering around in the forest nearby, stumbling in the undergrowth. He shrunk down further in against himself, tried to become as small as possible.

"Ginji! Oi, Ginji!" It was Ban-chan, of course. "Whoa– damn." Tripping all over everything, as usual. Ginji smiled slightly, but said nothing.

"Ginji– " _crash_ "when I find you, you had better– " _crunch_ "have a good excuse for– _dammit!_" A small rustling preceded a larger, echoing one. Ginji imagined his partner tripping over some vine and falling face-first into the ferns which covered the forest floor.

Listening to the curses overhead, Ginji opened his mouth, but then closed it again slowly. What if he didn't–

Ginji's half-formed plans were interrupted by the loudest curse yet and the sound of dirt crumbling, as in a shower of dirt, weeds and leaves Ban-chan fell into the hole, landing awkwardly in a crouched position. He glared narrowly at Ginji. Ginji smiled nervously.

"Ginji..."

"Hi, Ban-chan."

"Why the hell didn't you say anything!" Ban-chan, face contorted in irritation, bridged the distance between them with a step, arms upraised.

Ginji submitted to the throttling, mostly ignoring it, and concentrated instead on Ban-chan's presence. It made him happy, he realized. Just the mere presence of Ban-chan made him happier than anything else ever had. He didn't want to let go of Ban-chan. Just like the others hadn't wanted to let go of Raitei. He was so selfish.

"Oi, Ginji. You okay?" Ban-chan had let him go now, was looking at him in concern.

"Ban-chan..." It was hard to speak past the lump in his throat. His words came out in a whisper.

"You didn't hurt yourself, falling in a stupid hole like this, did you?" The question was mostly ridiculous, but sprinkled with concern around the edges.

"Ban-chan, I..."

"Ginji?" Ban-chan leaned in close now, put a hand on his shoulder, the other under his jaw, tilted his head from side to side examining it closely. "Doesn't look like you've got a concussion..." He let go of Ginji's jaw, put a warm hand on his forehead. "Or a fever..." Ban-chan was regarding him with open concern now.

"Ban-chan..." He couldn't say it. He couldn't. He was too much of a coward, too selfish.

"C'mon, let's get you out of here." Ban-chan moved over to crouch next to him, slipped an arm around his chest and pulled him to his feet, let Ginji lean on his arm. Always leaning, always weighing down, so heavy.

"_Ban-chan_..."

"Ginji, it'll be okay, whatever's wrong, let's just get out of here and then I'll– "

"I'm sorry!" He couldn't. He was a coward. He was selfish. He was a dead weight. But he couldn't let go of Ban-chan. He turned, knees buckling, buried his face in Ban-chan's shoulder, wrapped his arms tight around his waist. "I'm sorry, for everything." Against Ban-chan's chest, his words turned into meaningless tones.

For a minute, neither of them spoke. Then, slowly, Ban-chan pulled him away from his chest, knelt down in front of him so that their faces were at an equal height. "Sorry for what, Ginji?" He spoke slowly, deliberately, and his face was as serious as Ginji had ever seen it. But it wasn't angry.

"I can't leave. I'm sorry, Ban-chan. I'm sorry..." He swallowed the lump in his throat, but he couldn't stop the first tear, which he rubbed at harshly with the back of his hand, and kept rubbing long after it was gone.

"Ginji. Look at me." Ban-chan was holding his shoulder again, was closer now. He took hold of Ginji's wrist, gently, and pulled it away from his eyes. "You don't have to leave. I don't want you to leave. There's nothing to be sorry about." Glasses down at the tip of his nose as always, Ginji found himself looking straight into Ban-chan's brilliant blue eyes. They shone all the time, even in the dark night, even in _Mugenjou_, like guiding lights. Guiding lights to lead him home.

"Ban-chan... I'm sorry." There was nothing else to say.

"You don't have to be, idiot." Ban-chan mussed his hair, lightly. "Are you okay now?"

"Un." He nodded, wiped his hand across his face one last time.

"Can we get the hell out of this hole, then?"

"Un!"

Ban-chan, lighter than Ginji, was boosted out of the hole easily, stuck his hand back down. Taking a few steps back, Ginji got a running jump, just barely grabbed Ban-chan's hand, which immediately tightened around his. Ginji scrambled, tried to climb up the side with his feet.

"Idiot, what're you doing that for?"

"Ban-chan?"

"You're not that heavy." Ban-chan gave a great yank and hauled Ginji out of the hole all at once, apparently without effort. "C'mon, let's go before it gets dark." Ban-chan began walking in what seemed to Ginji to be a totally arbitrary direction, immediately stumbling over a plant. He turned to look over his shoulder, raised an eyebrow in clear exasperation. "Well, are you coming? I'm not going to carry you, y'know."

But Ginji knew he would, if he had to. Because Ban-chan liked him. Not Raitei, not even Amano Ginji-san, but just plain old Ginji. And Ginji realised that, to Ban-chan who would only ever trust a handful of people and who would genuinely like fewer, maintaining their relationship was so much more important than carrying a little extra weight that he hardly noticed it. Maybe Ban-chan couldn't offer trust in the same way Ginji did, but in its place he offered instead his strength. And that was something Ginji knew he could depend on, always.

"Coming, Ban-chan!"


End file.
